


One Last Kernel of Hope

by baruffio



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Complete and Total Betrayal, Detective Ryan Bergara, Hey This Lady's Been Murked!, Jr. Detective LOL Is your badge a sticker?, MurDer?!?!, Mystery, Noir But Also Not, Professional Nuisance Shane Madej, Very Mysterious
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:53:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23567887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baruffio/pseuds/baruffio
Summary: It's spring of 2006 in Hollywood, and Detective Bergara is at his wit's end attempting to solve the highly publicized case of the death of an A-list celebrity.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	One Last Kernel of Hope

It's a bright, cloudless night in the City of Stars, the type of night that the air seems to hold its breath and peace can only last but for so long. 

In his second story office, Junior Detective Ryan Steven Bergara throws back another shot of the good stuff--espresso, double shot, from the corner gas station--as he puzzles away Tinseltown’s mysteries. Well, at the moment, one mystery in particular.

"Again?" Detective Bergara barks as soon as he’s cleared his throat, slapping his desk for sorely-needed emphasis. 

Essentially unemployed rich-guy Shane Alexander Madej shrugs his bony shoulders. He has all the height of intimidation but none of the bite. Detective Bergara has a suspicion, and that suspicion is that Mr. Madej is only ever considered a person-of-interest whenever an officer fancies a joke with Bergara as the punchline. It isn't that Madej is a persay unlikable man; no, rather, Detective Bergara's distaste of the man comes from his half-assed ineptitude. 

"I’m helping you out," Madej says in a tone incongruous with his current situation. He jangles the cuffs. “You want to help me, out?" He elongates the last two words like they're two separate questions, and then Madej chuckles, probably pleased with his low-level word play. Detective Bergara would lose respect for a man who laughs at his own wit if he were not himself guilty of that particular foible. 

“No, I don’t, not particularly,” Detective Bergara says, and the bite in his voice hovers between a tease and legitimate annoyance. “The longer you’re tied up, the more you’re staying out of trouble.”

Madej laughs gleefully. “I can’t help it. I’ve got a big brain for detection.”

Detective Bergara scoffs at the blatant falsehood. Every single scrap of so-called civilian investigation that Madej has ever produced has not only ultimately been fruitless, it's been clearly harvested from the latest internet theory in circulation with no effort to fact-check or assess. It’s an insult to his profession, that’s what it is. The majority of the time, Bergara’s already read through the half-developed theory by the time Madej presents it. 

If Madej could be said to serve a purpose, it would be in his commentary. His social standing affords him a different perspective, and his insights --Detective Bergara is reluctant to admit-- have previously been something of sufficient import to decide the closure of a case. For that reason--and that reason only--Detective Bergara is going to be giving Madej precisely one chance to be useful before he sends him packing.

“Oh, do you?” Detective Bergara taunts. He closes the case file. He regrets not having done so the instant Chirico plunked Madej down in his office; it's not like casework can happen with Madej around. “‘Cause I’m _d_ _etecting_ a whole lot of bullshit. I think you just be here to snatch some details for your fans.”

“ _Our_ fans,” Madej corrects sweetly. 

Detective Bergara groans and wishes desperately for something stronger to drink. Had he known, two years ago, what an absolute pain-in-the-ass Madej would turn out to be, he would never have agreed to answer questions for his YouTube channel. At the time, he had, quite naively, thought that he was going to just go dish out some positive PR. Well, you know what they say about hindsight. “For the last time, I’m not part of your hobbyhorse.” 

“Sure you aren’t,” Madej says. He leans over and confides in a whisper to the plastic fern, “He is.” 

Detective Bergara taps out his irritation on the case file. “Here’s the thing, Madej. You’re not getting a whiff of what’s in here.”

“Not even for ol’ time’s sake?”

“Especially not for old time’s sake. Jesus.” Detective Bergara splays a hand over the folder. “In case you couldn’t tell, this is piss poor timing for a social call. Now are you going to tell me why you’re here, or am I about to punt you out of the building?”

Madej heaves a profound sigh. “Uncuff me first.”

“Have it your way,” Detective Bergara says, popping up to his feet and striding around his desk in quick, decisive steps. Madej knows him well enough to know that he’s about to get dragged out of the precinct and dumped unceremoniously onto the street. 

“Okay, okay, wait!” Madej shouts. He leans back in his chair in a poorly planned attempt to escape Detective Bergara’s reach. 

Bergara leans back against his desk and crosses his arms. “You’ve got two seconds.”

“Christ,” Madej swears. “Look, I don’t have anything concrete, I just think there are a lot of things that aren’t adding up.”

“No shit,” Bergara says. He drags a hand over his face. “I’ve got a press release in under fifteen hours, so if you don’t have anything actually useful--”

“So here’s what I’m thinking: what if there’s a reason it’s not all adding up?”

“I think I see where this is headed.”

“It’s an inside job!” Madej crows.

Detective Bergara shakes his head as he rolls back to his feet. He's not sure if he's more mad at Madej for taking precious seconds off the clock or himself for allowing it. “You always think it’s an inside job. You don’t have any evidence for that claim, do you? This isn’t your little internet show: baseless speculation is straight shit.” He grabs the chain of the cuffs and uses it to drag Madej up to his feet. “I’m done with you wasting my time.”

“I’m not wasting your time!” Madej protests surlily. He offers token resistance to Detective Bergara leading him down the hallway. He’s too much a fancy man to actually put up an actual fight. “I’m helping!”

"Sure you are, buddy,” Detective Bergara says. He jams the down button on the elevator. “By getting out of my hair.” He waits until they’ve boarded the elevator before he softens. “Look, man, I know the story is juicy, but this case is the sort of thing that could define my career. I’ve got the eyes of the nation on my back, and I can’t afford to entertain you.”

“It certainly is a _juicy_ case,” Madej says. He draws out _juicy_ like it’s a particularly delectable word, and Detective Bergara could not hate it more. “Makes you wonder...why did _you_ end up with it?”

Detective Bergara slants a suspicious look at Madej. “You trying to say somethin’, Madej?”

“I am saying something,” Madej retorts. “You’re the newest detective and you land the biggest case? What’s that about, am I right?” He shrugs his shoulders comedically, but Bergara’s not in a laughing mood. 

“Fuck you,” Detective Bergara snarls, stepping into Madej’s space. An unfortunate byproduct of this intimidation tactic is having to crick his neck back to properly glower at Madej. “I am perfectly capable of handling this case, you colossal dick!”

“Not exactly an insult,” Madej cackles.

Detective Bergara’s nostrils flare. He’s still not laughing--no, shut up, he isn't!--but hell, it’s a close call. He steps back to regain his composure. When he speaks again, his voice is acidic. “To reiterate, fuck you for implying that I’m not up to the task. I don’t appreciate your insinuations, Mr. Madej.” The elevator chimes and opens, and Detective Bergara shoves him through first. “If I see you again before this is over, your ass is waiting in a cell in 23-hour-and-59-minute-increments per infraction. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yeah, yeah, who's a big bad cop? You’re a big bad cop!” Madej says patronizingly with a wink and a shit-eating grin. “10-4, sir!”

“Shut up,” Detective Bergara mutters. He waves at Takahashi coming in for the night shift. She gives him a little nod and smirks enough that Bergara is fully aware that she heard Madej’s little comment. Detective Bergara can’t get Madej through the front door fast enough. 

“For real, though, Ryan,” Madej says, and Detective Bergara groans at the attempted familiarity. “Be careful. It’s an inside job.”

“It is not an inside job.” Detective Bergara digs the key out of his pocket and reaches to undo the cuffs, but Madej holds his bound wrists over his head.

“It is, and you need to be careful,” Madej says. He’s looking uncharacteristically serious.

Detective Bergara squares his jaw. He's not about to go jumping to get those cuffs off, but he could if he wanted to. Damn professional image. “Unsubstantiated claims--”

“Well, figure it out, Detective,” Madej drawls. “Get the substantiation.” Detective Bergara feigns throwing an elbow into Madej’s ribs and catches Madej's wrists when the man automatically moves to block the jab. Madej scowls petulantly as Detective Bergara opens the cuffs with short, efficient motions.

“No more wasting my time, Madej. I don’t have time to humor you.” 

"Humor me?" Madej repeats blankly. He ruffles his hair with his newly freed hands. He looks wild, untethered without the cuffs on. 

"Go home, Mr. Madej," Detective Bergara says gently before he turns on his heel and marches back in. 

Madej's forlorn voice trails him. "Inside job!"


End file.
